The Neverending Game of Hide and Seek
by vjeury
Summary: Nothing ever happens through chance. The world, situations, are pre-orchestrated by the hands of the unknown. An assassin, a healer, and a game.
1. Chapter 1

**FOREWORD: **writing a fan fic based on someone else's works calls for a proper disclaimer. The only thing I own here is the story and the other characters not found in the series Hunter x Hunter. That said, you may now read the fanfic proper)

* * *

**The Never-ending Game of Hide and Seek**

title

* * *

Today, we shall take the form of a raven hovering in the night sky over uncharacteristically quiet streets and lightless buildings of York Shin City. The stillness of the wind and the silence the city is producing is deafening, eerie, unnatural. We fly towards the outskirts of the city, searching for a place to stay the night and for entertainment. Finally, we settle into an abandoned building.

Cracks adorned the walls and the pillars of the building. The night sky, unadorned by stars, sent dark heavy clouds, threatening the current protagonists in our raven's eyes. Unlike the city, the building screams with life, a condition our raven finds comfortable. We then settle on a window, our raven's intention alien to that of our own.

As if on cue, sensing the audience's need to see the actors, the moon peeks from the clouds giving us enough light to distinguish their features. None existent doors and windows reveal the inner recesses of the structure. Our raven's adjusting its eyes to the darkness and the very little light provided, giving us, the audience a clearer view of the scene. We notice the particularly large amount of dirt and dust, traces of the building's weariness and strong evidence of the society's ignorance of this structure. The rats scuttled around and jumped into the various holes, hiding in their makeshift homes sensing our raven's presence. Spider webs and trapped insects hung in various places. But above all, we notice the main characters of this picture, a tall man, bruised and bleeding in various parts of his body, and a girl, looking at the man so intently.

Both of the actors stand frozen, and as if someone pressed play, they come to life, breathing, but neither moved, still studying each other. Until finally, the man decided to sit down, his movements breaking the silence.

* * *

It was the night of his last mission for the month according to the folder handed to him by his father a week before. From an outsider's point of view he should be happy, if not satisfied, and yet here he is, disappointed. Why wouldn't he be? Yes, the target was successfully killed without a doubt, but he was careless. Illumi is, _was, _never careless but the sarcastic voice in his head is telling him otherwise. He looked at his current condition. His good clothes soiled with blood, _his blood. _Open wounds, various glasses stuck to his arms and legs, and cuts embellish his body further humiliating him.

He frowned as he recalled what happened a few hours ago but decided against it. Getting disappointed with himself would have to wait. What currently called for his attention are his wounds. He has to stop the bleeding on his lower abdomen soon. The gaping wound can no longer be ignored.

He could feel the temperature drop lower. Faint sounds of thunder closing in. He cursed inwardly, blaming himself for thinking he didn't require to secure any place to stay in earlier. His original plan was to ride an airship back to Kukuroo mountain right after the assignment seemed moot given his current getup. He has to find a place soon, the weather and his wounds urging him.

He ran faster, making sure no one was following him.

At last he reached the outskirts of York Shin city. He descended from his flight gracefully and down to the seemingly abandoned building before him.

The place seemed relatively okay for an abandoned building. Deciding that it would have to do, he entered.

What did go wrong? The nagging voice in his head just couldn't seem to shut up. Pushing the impending question in a corner, he looked down at his body and proceeded to pulling the shards of glass off of his skin.

Noticing another presence in the building, he stopped. My god, his senses must be getting duller by the minute due to extreme blood loss. He stood proudly, his features showing the littlest of concern for the intruder and scanned his area.

"You look like you've been carried off by a cyclone and ran into a bunch of mirrors, mister."

His raised his left eyebrow at this. That was a very inaccurate estimation of what has happened to him. He looked at the owner of the voice, assessing the potential threat she posed.

To him she looked immensely harmless. She has quite small frame compared to him and she doesn't seem to be carrying anything with her. Her nen seemed to pose no problems as well but he was still wary of her. His years of experience told him to never underestimate a person based on their looks but his senses tell him different. What was peculiar about her though is appearing in this abandoned building. He idly wondered if it's currently a trend for teenagers to wander alone in abandoned buildings these days. It was either that or she had other reasons for being here.

Was she sent here to kill him? Perhaps. The only way to find out is talking to pry it out of her, one of his various specialties.

"Why are you staring at me? Do I have dirt on my face too?" she asked. This made his brow rise even higher. And then she made her way towards him. He continued to stay in his position ready to throw a needle at her at the first sign of hostility or assault towards him. Until finally, she was close enough and started to pull the glass off of his arms.

"Yikes, this one's in pretty deep." She said, looking at the wound as it bleeds after she removed the glass.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his eyebrow now resuming its original position.

"Removing the glasses off your body" she said as a matter-of-factly "you seemed like you wouldn't do anything about it."

"Plus, I couldn't heal you with all those things stuck on you."

Heal him? This got his attention.

"We have to act fast" she said crinkling her nose at the sight of his blood drenched clothes "That's A LOT of blood. It's a wonder you're still standing."

He found the way expressive her face looked while concentrating on pulling the glass off of him entertaining, the way her eyebrows furrowed in disbelief as she pulled the really deep ones, or the way she shakes her head in disbelief that a person can have this many punctures and not seem to mind. Once or twice he caught her eyes wandering to his face as she pulled the glass as if expecting him to say ouch or react.

He then sat down, noticing that she's having a hard time reaching the glass stuck to his shoulders. Remembering that there were annoying bullets stuck to his back (ones that didn't penetrate his skin deep enough) he then held one of her hands, signaling her to pause, and then proceeded to taking of his needle vest and his under shirt.

Seeing the strange stones that punctured his body, she started taking those off too.

Visible foreign objects removed, she then asked "Is that everything?"

"Yep" Illumi replied coolly.

Her hair and eyes started to glow and turned vividly white reminding Illumi of some of the members of his family, except hers never looked unruly. She looked extremely ethereal, no longer looking like the plain harmless girl from earlier.

That was when she started singing. The girl's aura taking on various shapes, outlining her body and then pouring out of her mouth and onto him. He didn't tense at this or felt like he was in any danger. It was as if by instinct, he closed his eyes and let her actions take over. Instead he found his body engulfed in an invisible cloak of warmth. He could barely make out the words of the song. He felt his body drown into the warmth, not in an alarming way though for it was the most comfortable sensation he felt. It's that feeling you get when you know you're completely safe, or the tenderness a baby feels when inside its mother's womb.

He pried his eyes open when he felt her hand touch the big gash on his abdomen, and was amazed at the way it closed, tissues repairing itself, cells forming over cells, skin healing, until no mark of the wound was visible. He looked at her as she sang. Hearing words so foreign to him in a melody so enchanting he'd want to play it over and over.

And just as he wished for it, she stopped and smiled.

"That was unusually long." She said, putting him off the trance-like state he was in.

"There. Now all you need is a good bath and you'll look good as new" she said. And then added as she thoughtfully looked at him, "that and a few blood transplants."

He curiously stared at her and then at his own body, feeling around for any wound or scars or still bleeding gashes, he found none. And then he noticed that her hair and eyes aren't glowing anymore.

Feeling compelled and a bit guilty, he nodded his head and uttered a word of thanks to her.

"You're welcome" she replied, smiling at him.

"Do you always heal random wounded people when you see them?" He asked as she sat next to him facing the direction of the moon.

"Nope" She answered as she looked at the moon "I mostly do heal animals." Sighing, she added "I just thought it's only polite for a host to tend to a wounded guest."

Now he got even curiouser. "You live here?"

"At the moment, yeah" turning to him and grinning. He wondered how someone could possibly stand in such dreary quarters, why one would stay in a filthy place baffled him until a certain group of thieves came to mind. Could she be hiding from someone? He looked at her, she looked relatively calm for someone who's hiding. A runaway, maybe? He gave the room a quick scan. No bags in sight. So why is she staying here?

It was then that he noticed her features. Her brown hair looked darker in the moonlight, while her green eyes shined bright looking straight at him.

"And what is a girl like you doing here?" at this the girl looked a bit offended.

"Woah, hey mister, I turned nineteen last week! Tis here is no girl." She answered, pointing at her chest. "And you've been asking a lot questions too! That's not fair." She added sticking a tongue out imitating a kid.

"Your actions say otherwise." a small genuine smile forming on his lips.

"How about we exchange questions instead?" the girl proposed

"Okay, and that's one from your part already, now we're fair." His smile widened a bit as he found himself enjoying her annoyed reaction. "Will you care to answer my previous question?"

"Yes." Two can play it that game the girl thought. "Do you like beetle frogs?"

"You didn't answer my question yet." He asked surprised she asked a question already.

"I just did" her grin matching his "You asked if I would answer your previous question and I did! I said yes!"

Silence float over them for a few seconds.

"So do you like beetle frogs?" She repeated.

He blinked twice in surprise at this. To Illumi, it looked like she really is asking him. Again, he felt inclined to answer and answered "I don't particularly like them."

An exchange of random questions and answers followed soon after, with Illumi unconsciously enjoying every minute of it.

* * *

**A/N: **Alas, the caffeine has stopped supporting my defenses against sleeping already and my brain cells seemed to stop functioning altogether thus I shall end this chapter here.

I have a good feeling about this story. And for the first time in a long while, I've finally made something that has a definite direction, one I'll be most happy to share to you guys once I'm fully rested.

***edit**

I gave this a quick read the minute I came home and noticed that I wasn't able to write some of the parts I intended to show. Sorry. Part 2 is coming up soon. Tomorrow maybe.

**P.S: **Plus points to anyone who recognizes the whole raven act and where it's from. That and I'll get bricked for being so unoriginal 80 percent of the time.

Oh and it's always awesome to hear from you guys, do drop me a message if you can feel like it)

Thank you for reading (and reviewing).

Love sent,

-vjeury


	2. Chapter 2

**FOREWORD: **writing a fan fic based on someone else's works calls for a proper disclaimer. The only thing I own here is the story and the other characters not found in the series Hunter x Hunter. The mangaka's views of the character is not necessarily reflected in this fanfic and anything shown here is purely a product of my imagination. That said, you may now read the fanfic proper)

* * *

He was starting to feel a little light headed as their questions start to take a turn for the normal. Finally. Not that he was getting tired of the random questions one can think of at eleven in the evening. He actually liked it.

As the minutes passed he has learned that the girl before him is a huge fan of wrestling in general, has a weird obsession towards bald people and how she has never met one who has shown any signs of hair growth from the very beginning, and her other various fascinations, but never anything of depth and explanation because after answering a question she would jump to something different. Now that he thought about it, he has gathered rather useless information about her ever since their exchange started. Likewise, she hasn't dared to ask anything that would leave the unsaid boundaries they laid out, the confines of the non personal. All was fair in his opinion. Nothing of much value on either side was exposed. He idly wondered if she was deliberately doing this, if her spouts of random questions weren't of her nature and if she was just being cautious.

There wasn't even a trade of names. She merely regarded him as 'you' or 'guest' and herself as 'host'. None of them initiated the exchange, something he is perfectly fine with.

"Aren't you cold?" Hello, first normal query of the night, interrupting his train of thought.

The subject would have been normal if the question at hand is something that could be casually asked to any of the members of the Zoldyck family or if he was not a member of said family. Asking of the very matter would be normally considered an insult, especially if it were directed to him.

So was she insulting him? He looked at her. She looked like she genuinely cared. That's a first. His well being was hardly something anyone other than him cared for. His own family did its best to not ask unnecessary questions, not because they neglected him, just that it was expected of him to be okay in the direst of situations. Trained in the art of assassination, being able to hold his own against an army of a thousand beasts, one does not simply ask if he feels physically cold. But of course she wouldn't know that.

"No" he replied blandly still looking at her.

"Now, now" Waving her hands, fussing "No need to be modest. Although, it would be extremely saddening to not see your bare chest I think it's only proper for me as the host to give you a shirt." earning a raised brow from Illumi.

So we're into suggestive lines now huh? He should be used to this given that he has heard time and again from a certain magician, how he was often fancied and desired to be seen without clothes or anything with more material than a thong, though the girl's sentence hardly sounded malicious at all, it was something he hadn't expected from her.

"Dead pan as you appear, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't don your blood stained top just yet." She added as a matter-of-factly.

Okay that killed any hint of malice from the previous line. That and the comment _almost_ affected him.

"You are a guest after all... I'll be right back." With that, she darted off into the darker recesses of the building before he could reject her offer.

The difference on their builds alone is enough to convince him that whatever she has to offer will lack in length department. That and it might just rip. Convinced that anything of hers wouldn't fit him he busied himself with removing the poisoned pins from his vest.

He sighed, resigned to the fact that no amount of detergent will be enough to rid his vest of the blood.

Maybe she is a runaway after all. He continued to pull the pins out as he wondered. Another issue came back at hand. What is he going to do now? He _is_healed and pretty much good to go. He could leave now that the girl's not in sight. That'd be really fast and there would be no need for pretentious formalities.

_Pull._

Repaying her isn't something he is relatively concerned with. Money is never a problem. Will she need it though?

One by one he pulled a pin as soon as an answer or a question presents itself.

_Pull._

What could she want in return? Does he have a reason to stay?

_Pull._

The girl's nen, maybe. She could prove to be useful in the future.

_Pull._

What else can she do?

_Pull._

Should he abduct her?

_Pull._

Will anyone save or retrieve her if he did?

_Pull._

Will she fight back?

_Pull._

_Can _she fight back?

_Pull._

I don't know.

_Pull._

Befriend her?

He paused. Now there's an interesting thought. Hadn't he time and again forced the idea into Killua's head that friends are a pointless distraction? But then there's Hisoka. What is he to him exactly? An ally? An acquaintance? A worthy adversary? He could fall into any of those categories but surely he is never a friend. What is a friend? He slightly recalled looking it up in books before so as to give his brother a broader lecture.

Let's see a friend is one who entertains for another such sentiments of esteem, respect, and affection that he seeks his society and welfare; a wellwisher; an intimate associate; sometimes, an attendant, one not inimical or hostile; one not a foe or enemy; also, one of the same nation, party, kin, etc., whose friendly feelings may be assumed. He shrugged at this. He certainly does not need, let alone will, to seek affection from the bloodthirsty sexually thrilled maniac. His loyalty to him is also definite as long as he pays him or he does not threaten any of the members of his kin. And Hisoka is absolutely not an_intimate associate_. This thought was followed by the numerous times the imbecile has told him how well they'd do in bed and how biting him in various parts of his body during coitus would be most pleasurable. He cursed himself silently for his ability to remember anything in full detail, images and all. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, aware that he is getting irked at this.

To ease his irritation he resumed to pulling the pins off except with more verve this time.

Let's see. Now what was he thinking of again? Ah, yes, befriending the healer.

_Pull._

So should he?

_Pull._

Deciding that he'll answer this question later he pulled the last of the pins and discarded the vest in a corner.

"Here you go" she said while handing him a white bundle.

Her sudden presence almost made him jump, thank heavens he didn't. Does she know how to use Zetsu? Maybe this is her version of his family's dark step? He could barely count the number of people who can without him throwing a poisoned pin at them. If he was _this _out of touch the blood he has lost must be pretty big. He put immediate blood transplant on top of his mental priority list. She was able to sneak up on him twice now. A few seconds later, he found himself wearing an oversized white shirt with the words I heart LEMONS written in huge bold black letters that could probably be seen a mile away. It was too big, even for him. He's in no position to protest. He was healed, looked after, he should be grateful or at least act like it. He looked at her, realizing that she too is wearing an oversized shirt, except her arms, hands, and legs vanished under all that fabric and the words I'll Kill All Zombies are written on hers. Her shirt was probably twice as big as the one he's currently wearing. She could be hiding an elephant underneath that shirt and he wouldn't know.

"This shirt is my favorite" she said smiling widely. It does look extremely comfortable.

And then she sat beside him and let out a long and weary sigh. For awhile no one said anything. A comfortable silence enveloping them as the night grew deeper and thunders roared in the air followed by a heavy downpour of rain. The temperature dropped even lower and yet it seemed the two hardly noticed it. Both just stared into the nothingness before them; minds wandering off to nothing. Time could've been frozen for all they care. It has been awhile since Illumi had this kind of peace where he didn't have to jump off to another continent to kill another measly politician, or wipe out an entire tribe of society detested cults.

Strangely, he found this tranquility in the oddest of places, an abandoned building in the outskirts of York Shin City beside a girl who he knows nothing of.

He was about to give in to the idea that the girl before him is completely harmless; apparently fate has another surprise in store for him tonight.

He sensed people penetrate the building, invading the serene stillness they were once in. These unwelcome guests are approaching them, fast. Sensing hostility in the air, he was about to stand up when the girl beat him to it.

"I knew I shouldn't have changed into this shirt just yet" she showed no signs of being afraid. In fact if he would have to guess she was probably anticipating this. He looked at her quizzically as she stared at the direction of the intruders.

"You know you could've just knocked on the door" she said, her voice steady and happy, like a mom welcoming a friend in her household. No, she was more like a snake inviting brave, stupid frogs into her pit.

Illumi determined he should stay in another corner of the room should there be a fight so he could get a good look at things and so he could properly see who to kill if she needs help.

"Show yourselves." Her words and voice were powerful, but in a very different way from Illumi's. When she addressed them, it felt like a general talking to a batch of new recruits, not pompous or condescending but commanding their respect. He could feel the aura of the intruders quiver, her voice instilling fear into their systems, and sent a shiver down his spine. That, plus it stirred up a tinge of admiration for her.

One by one they stepped into the light enough for her to see. There are about ten visible men in the room. The girl stood casually as if she weren't in any immediate danger, raising her sleeves up so her hands and arms are visible. Thunder roared angrily as if it was yearning for bloodshed and the rain poured even harder. At once they made a bee line for her, each one holding a different weapon. Just as when Illumi thought they got her she disappeared in a flash, only to reappear at the very back of the group holding one of the attackers severed head in the right and his weapon, a sword on the other.

"Ten"

There goes harmless out the window.

They all came at her again. She threw the severed head on the face of the nearest assailant and almost cut his body in half when the sword got stuck on his spine, spewing guts and blood around (and on her)in the process. "You really should bring sharper swords" realizing that giving advice to the dead is pointless, she turned and dumped the body.

"Nine"

Two chains caught of her wrists pulling her into different directions. The girl merely grabbed at its length and started flinging the holders of the chains to the other enemies like they were made of paper. She then pulled them towards her until she grabbed hold of the chains so that it was short enough to throw them in a short distance and back. Satisfied, she started pounding the two poor creatures from the ceiling and down to the floor until their skulls cracked (imagine how Hulk bullied Loki in the movie Avengers and you'd get the picture).

"Seven…. Hmm… I skipped a number. Oh well. Do you mind if we skip to zero next?" her tone was playful but Illumi didn't miss the irritation in her voice. Must've been the shirt, he thought.

"Bitch!" one of the attackers yelled. It seems that the girl does not take kindly to being bad mouthed because she ripped the culprit's lower jaw off before it could even move from its position.

Oddly, he remembered the time when his brother, Killua, returned home and was chained in the isolation room, where his other brother, Milluki, did his best to hurt and punish the other. That was a rather pitiful act and unfruitful. He knows full well that Milluki knew how futile his attempts so physically hurt the younger sibling. He was undeniably fat but not stupid (though he has displayed the most ridiculous of musings through his rather dysfunctional inventions). So, he retracted to giving Killua insults and mockery, of which his efforts were in vain. At least, Milluki was lucky enough to keep his head intact, survive with a few non lethal stabs, and that Killua isn't as impatient. Just how small her temper is was something he was left to ponder on.

"Six"

Illumi was pretty sure one of the attackers wet his pants at this. Feeling that she looked really irritated having her shirt soiled with blood and guts, he decided to spare her and threw a pin on each of the attackers killing them all effectively.

Both of them scanned the area, traces of death surrounding them. The décor is getting closer to what he's used to seeing, except with more gore and blood, that and more graphic for his tastes.

Not bad, Illumi thought.

The girl turned to him holding her shirt on the sides and curtsied. "Thank you for your generous act to this shirt, kind sir." He nodded back, regarding her.

Then she made her way to the window and said "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to bathe in the rain now and rid me of this filth." With that she climbed out the window and into the rain.

* * *

**A/N: **I would like to thank **DDarkness, Hikari-Suzume, **and **NiendaZaoldyeck ** for the kind reviews and story alerts, it does good to the heart. My apologies to DDarkness because the previous chapter clearly didn't have anything to review on really. Realizing this, I inflicted the appropriate number of face palms to myself and rest assured I shall not repeat the same mistake again. I uploaded it prematurely and for that I'm sorry. Consider this chapter, chapter 1b instead :)

**Trivia: **A good while back when Illumi was surfing the net because he wouldn't bother going through their massive library to find a good thesaurus to define the meaning of the word friend, he came across a website stating _this _description.

"A _friend_ is a lover, literally. The relationship between Latin _am__cus '_friend' and _am_ 'I love' is clear, as is the relationship between Greek _philos_ 'friend' and _phile_ 'I love'. In English, though, we have to go back a millennium before we see the verb related to _friend._ At that time, _fr__ond,_ the Old English word for 'friend', was simply the present participle of the verb _fr__on,_ 'to love'. The Germanic root behind this verb is _*fr__-,_ which meant "to like, love, be friendly to." Closely linked to these concepts is that of "peace," and in fact Germanic made a noun from this root, _*frithu-,_meaning exactly that. Ultimately descended from this noun are the personal names_Frederick,_ "peaceful ruler," and _Siegfried,_ "victory peace." The root also shows up in the name of the Germanic deity _Frigg,_ the goddess of love, who lives on today in the word _Friday,_ "day of Frigg," from an ancient translation of Latin _Veneris di__s,_ "day of Venus."

After reading this, Illumi made it a point to _never _refer to Hisoka as a friend.

**P.S**

Thank you for reading (and reviewing). I do hope you enjoyed it

Love sent,

-vjeury


	3. Chapter 3

**FOREWORD: **writing a fan fic based on someone else's works calls for a proper disclaimer. The only thing I own here is the story and the other characters not found in the series Hunter x Hunter. That said, you may now read the fanfic proper)

* * *

It was getting late; so late that it was early. Spots of dark shades of cobalt blue bruised the dark sky. Illumi leapt from one building to another, carrying the sleeping healer on his arms. He has to move faster, if the healer is correct, she shouldn't be spotted by anyone. She literally looked like a baby in his arms. Her body wrapped in a makeshift bundle of oversized white shirts with only the shape of her face visible.

He grinned at his handiwork. He originally wanted to use his pins on her to change her appearance. He stuck a pin on her experimentally but removed it after seeing the way her muscles distorted. He had never been so repulsed seeing how her features contorted and removed the pin immediately. Wrapping her in a bundle of clothes is the next best thing except it will draw unnecessary attention towards them.

But what the hell. It's the dead of the night, if he moved fast enough no one would even see a trace of his shadow, much less the person he's carrying.

* * *

He propped his chin on his hand as he rested his elbows over what the window and down to the girl standing stoically under the rain.

The distance between where he's standing and the pavement is about fifty feet, an almost accurate estimation. How she managed to not die from the previous jump is beyond him, then again, she did kill five, undoubtedly ten if he hadn't finished the fight for her, people a few minutes ago using only brute force.

To him, it looked like she was dancing playfully to an incredibly fast symphony; the only problem was that her partners kept looking at their feet and can't keep up. Unable to lead her, she discards them. He was beginning to wonder if being in an abandoned building with a potential enemy is yet one of the effects of major blood loss. Damn, that list is getting long.

He replayed the scenes in his head as he stared at her languid figure. Her body seemed like a good façade to hide her abilities. She definitely looked weak. Her small frame looks hardly a personification of battle, so unlike Killua, who even at his current height has muscles that boast vigorous training. She had none, not any that he has seen so far at least. Her physique sure betrayed him. The way she flung her opponents as if they were made out of paper made him chuckle.

Her techniques looked both smooth and lazy, reminding him of days when he just want to get things over with and proceed. He liked her rather languid movements, how her eyes remained closed during the battle.

The previous clash did answer some of his questions. Oh wait no it was hardly a clash, seeing that none of the intruders lived two seconds after being touched by her. So she _can _fight and _kill_. To what extent though? Just how strong is she? The conflict earlier didn't exactly prove anything. It looked like she can do more but it didn't look like she has an art form either. It was as if she was moving on instinct. A natural. She was incredibly fast too. Her movements almost a blur as she removed the head of one of the attackers. Pretty sure that he would not have been able to see what she has done if he didn't pay attention. He could still remember her face as she fought. She looked like she was doing everything in autopilot; as if she has been doing it time and again she could do it with her eyes closed. She didn't look like she was enjoying it. Her eyes looked dead, the light it contained when she talked to him previously gone as if someone else was taking over her.

He looked at her ghostly figure, idly fiddling with a pin on his fingers, contemplating if he should kill her right there and then. She would be a terrible, terrible thing to waste he thought. She's just standing there, head turned towards the sky, unmoving, serene, letting the rain wash out the blood off her clothes. It looked like she could be trapped in that state, forever undisturbed.

Her eyes opened slowly and then her head turned towards his direction. She changed her stance and then leapt up to the window next to his. Falling down is one thing, leaping 50 feet up and into her current position like it was nothing is another. And there she sat, wringing her hair and clothes.

Her clothes sloshed to the ground as she started to make her way back to the darkness. She looked like a wet doll, her wet clothes clinging to her body.

"I can't get it all to come off" she groaned.

He could feel another blanket of silence preparing to loom over them, he stopped her. He was never really the silent one as people often thought he is. He's not socially awkward, mind you. In fact, once you get past his incredibly intimidating façade and the fact that he could kill anyone in less than a second and then muster up enough courage to talk to him you'd find that he's actually good in conversation. It was both unfortunate and fortunate for the young assassin to not have anyone to just simply talk to. For one, he couldn't care less if people wanted to avoid him. It was always easier that way. Then again, this made things difficult for him whenever he's interrogating someone.

He wanted to talk and have someone respond to him not cower in fear. It's so unusual to find people who'd actually _talk _to him. Having only a deranged magician for conversation made him all the more eager to jump at every chance he could get. To him, she was a rare find, never mind that he knows almost nothing about her. It's raining, he's stuck in a building, and he's bored. What are you going to do about it?

"Why did you kill them?" he asked nonchalantly for the sake of conversation. Although her affairs are none of his business, her situation is quite intriguing.

"I got cut by a sword once, I didn't like it. Since then I've been doing my best to not get hurt physically. That and I like my body in one piece" she said, her hands gesturing her body animatedly.

The look from the man's eyes told her he wasn't satisfied with the answer she gave him.

And then she looked at him apologetically "I'm sorry. This isn't exactly a nice sleeping environment. You could move into another building if you'd like once the rain stops" she said with an embarrassed smile, effectively changing the subject.

"It doesn't look like it would stop anytime soon, though" Illumi replied. The rain poured exponentially harder after his reply garnering an incredulous look from the girl.

"We could vacate to another floor. I don't know about you but I don't think I could get some shut eye with the smell of all these dead bodies around me. "

Without warning she took him by the wrists shocking him momentarily by the sudden physical closeness, and led him to the darkness, feeling around as she did since using their eyes are pointless, pausing at random to kick away more dead bodies and then stopping at what felt as the stairs.

The upper floor seemed clear of dead bodies since there was no smell of blood or decay in the air. Letting go of his hand, he sensed her make her way towards the nearest window and followed her.

She sat leaning on the wall and hugging her knees, her head buried down. For a moment, it looked like she's shutting everything out, clearing her head. He sat a good foot beside her and then she inched closer, her complete disregard for personal space startling him for a few seconds.

"I'm playing a game" her voice was so soft — it was barely audible, but something about it made you want to lean in and listen to what she had to say. It was like a whisper that promised you secrets.

"And I can't lose. The rules are simple if I don't get caught I win otherwise I lose."

He was silent, letting her continue.

"I figured, if I kill them it'd still count, and I'll win." Her eyes started to look back into the empty expanse.

"And it's so I could see Mother again…" there was a hint of weariness that seemed to hung on the air around her. All the strength her body proudly boasted gone with the wind.

Her voice was so quiet and so hollow that she could have been a hundred feet away, or maybe even on the other side of the world.

"How long have you been running?" for a moment he thought she wouldn't answer. The question seemed to drift in the air, it's syllables slowly evaporating.

"A couple of weeks, I think. I can't really remember…" she said with a weak smile

"Aren't you going to sleep?"

She looked at him as if the thought hadn't crossed her mind, as if sleeping was out of the question and then replied "I can't there would be more of them in an hour or so..."and then she yawned and added" at least as soon as they realize the people they sent are already dead."

They? Well they're not doing a pretty good job trying to kill you, Illumi thought.

And then she hid her face again. For awhile, Illumi thought she was just letting the silence drone on that was until she started slowly falling to her side. He smirked so much for not sleeping.

He scanned her. She looked too tired for someone so young. Her deep breaths made it looked like her body was yearning for a break. The circles under her eyes are so black it could have been bruises. She looked so defenseless. Where had all the strength from earlier gone to? Could he really be staring at the same person? She just looked so…_ defenseless_. She hardly looked comfortable, sleeping on the hard floor and still in her wet clothes. She must've been really worn-out if she could sleep in that state. He can't feel any aura radiating from her again, if he closed his eyes he'd probably determine that he was alone.

He shifted uncomfortably, finally aware of the cell phone in his back pocket. Why it had completely slipped his mind is beyond him, yet another thing to blame on blood loss. He flipped it open checking for messages and the time. It read 2:35 am. Bored beyond his wits, he turned on the phone's flash light and started to explore the floor. He squinted a bit, letting his eyes adjust to the light. He reached what he determined as the center of the room, only then realizing that the light from his phone can only cover a good four inches around him.

He looked back, the girl and everything else around him masked by black save for the parts near the window although those too are almost invisible.

What could he possibly accomplish by wandering aimlessly in the dark like this? Ah. Well, he could go check where the girl got the shirts. He easily found the stairs, going down two steps at a time.

The lower floor was even bloodier than he imagined. He randomly stepped on the heads of the corpses, crushing them in the process, as he wandered around the room. He stopped for a bit, extending his hand while holding the phone intending to cover more ground with light and then started walking again. It was like that for awhile. He almost reached a corner when he saw a cardboard box in front of him.

He knelt down, set his phone on the ground, and opened the box finding three white shirts with varying words on them piled on top of each other, confirming that the box belongs to the girl. He couldn't fathom why he placed her belongings in such an inconvenient location. He picked up the shirts folding them neatly on top of the other, careful to not set them on the dirty concrete. She clearly needed a change of clothes. He was folding the last of the shirts when a black plastic card fell from it. He picked it up. He examined it. Other than the gold line across it, it was plain. Immediately losing interest, he placed it on his back pocket and proceeded to folding the last shirt.

He was almost done when his head snapped up at the sound of footsteps that came from the upper floor. He closed his phone, tucked the shirts under his arm, and made for the stairs with haste. Fast and confident as if he could see in the darkness Illumi went forward. He crept up silently to the upper floor. He could tell from the aura emitted by the intruders that there are thirty people in the room apart from the girl and himself.

His eyes darted towards the figure on the window carrying the limp girl in his arms. He soundlessly threw a pin at the nape of the figure paralyzing him effectively.

He identified the one emitting the strongest nen first, and sent a pin flying to him next.

* * *

Migure furrowed his brows in disbelief and thought that the higher-ups were too paranoid to insist on sending thirty men after a girl, a sleeping, unarmed, frail looking girl at that. Apparently, he was right. It took them no cinch finding her, and they're now about to go back to base. This assignment is a complete walk in the park and they're going to finish in record time to boot.

It was weird how the ones sent earlier haven't come back yet. Maybe they ditched their job, figured it was too easy for their liking. That must be it. The first group is known to slack off on jobs anyway. He couldn't wait to see how his superiors would scold the initial troupe. That'd sure be a fun thing to watch.

He wanted to get the whole thing over with as he looked around nervously. He was more afraid of having Orube on his team more than anything else. The man had an extremely bad temper and a worse habit of beating up his own teammates in more than one occasion especially when nothing particularly eventful happens. He was the only living witness in one of Orube's sudden fits of violence. Migure is convinced that his superiors only let him get away with it because the man is just so damn strong. He bet all his money that Orube's expecting a pretty good fight given the number of people sent. He looked at the heavily built man's face, a look of disappointment clearly shown in his eyes. Oh no. This night's going to turn out pretty bad for them if he doesn't do something fast.

"Hey what's with the hold-up man?" he shouted towards Grabo "Let's wrap this up quick! I still have to go home and tape Grey's anatomy for my wife!"

"Shut up you pansy!" Grabo teased "Aren't _you _the wife? At the rate you're going you might as well let her lead us." Migure didn't like how he's holding the girl one bit. He was holding her inappropriately, violating her. He was only thankful the girl was sleeping and wasn't struggling. Grabo liked it when girls struggled; it gave him more reason and room for _creativity._ The girl slept like a log. Seriously? How can anyone stand being held like that? His averted his gaze in disgust as Grabo's hands strayed to the more sensitive areas of the girl before preparing to leave.

What did he do to deserve to work with such despicable men? He rubbed his temples in an attempt to ease himself. He consoled himself with the fact that at least a good percent of the group is relatively acceptable. Sure there's Jiggy, who despite his unhealthy obsession with inanimate figures, never hurt or killed anyone without good reason, and Yngwie who went in the asylum for killing a hundred men because of the floating women behind them kept on bad mouthing him has been rehabilitated and haven't killed that large a number for six months, and Creighton who did his best to keep his fascination with dead bodies and the _fun_ things he could do to them to himself.

Okay, so it not exactly the best group in the entirety of squad 257 but it had to do. He inhaled deeply, massaged his temples, and repeated the mantra work is work in his head. Forcing himself to think of what he could buy with the huge-ass payment instead and handing a re-assignment request letter first thing in the morning. Still, what's the catch? Maybe it's because they have Orube in their team. Having him around meant a good difference between life and death.

He looked at the girl in Grabo's arms. What could his superiors want from her? Taking her like this somehow didn't _look _right in his eyes. He shook his head. Work is work. Work is work, repeating the mantra more fervently this time. He couldn't afford to let his conscience get the better of him.

"Move it already!" Migure commanded.

"Okay, okay. Don't get your panties in a knot. It's not much fun playing with someone sleeping anyway." Grabo responded setting his foot on the window sill preparing to move out.

Grabo froze. He couldn't will his body to move. He felt his muscles stiffen turning into stone. His eyes grew wide in terror. He tried his best to scream in panic but his jaw wouldn't budge. He tried to look behind him but he couldn't move his neck. _Shit. How can that son of a bitch not notice him! Help damn it! Help! _

Migure sighed in relief, looks like they'd be able to get out of this peacefully after all. To his extreme annoyance, Grabo stopped in his tracks, posing like Tarzan carrying Jane.

"Damn it, quit playing already." He was so ready to snatch Grabo's arm when Jiggy let out an earsplitting scream followed by the sounds of crunching bones later. Looks like Orube couldn't contain himself anymore. He brought a palm on his forehead and leaned on the wall. It's useless running now. Running away meant having a deranged Orube coming after you like a mad dog and under in no circumstance would he want that. Besides, if he stood close to the target, he wouldn't attack him. Despite his thirst for blood, Orube still has enough logic in him to follow orders.

He watched the rest of his men gang up on Orube, not like that'll do much. The whole thing should be over in two to five minutes give or take. He prayed real hard that twenty eight dead men are enough to satisfy Orube's hunger. Migure was almost tempted closed his eyes after a good ten died. Watching Orube work isn't the prettiest sight in the planet but he didn't. Just because he was spared that one time doesn't mean he'd let him go now.

A good sum of cussing, screams, and gore followed.

"Come on, man. I think that's enough for the night." It took Migure his all to keep his voice from shaking and tried to play it cool. That's what you do with animals, right? Keep your cool and show them whose boss. Don't let them smell your fear. Except nothing he could do can ever stop the monster from turning towards him.

It was too late for Migure when he realized that he wasn't dealing with a rational Orube anymore. Orube's eyes aren't filled with anything, not even a trace of blood lust. His eyes are blank and his mouth hung open. If this is what a zombie looks like, then the chances of him making it out alive plunged down to a negative thousand. He still had to try though. He almost made it out the window when he was pulled back by Orube, he was holding Migure on the opposite ends, his massive left hand on the man's shoulders and the right on the waist, and with a sickening crack his spine and the skin tearing, Migure's body was torn in half, snapping the living daylight out of him.

* * *

Illumi emerged from his hiding place. It was a lot easier than he thought. He didn't even have to exert much effort either. Watching the fools kill each other was entertaining. He commended himself for saving not killing the pervert yet. The man's actions repulsed him beyond belief. Taking advantage of an unconscious person is something he greatly frowns upon. It was low and revolting. He compelled himself to not rip the bastard's head off, telling himself that what he had to offer will be a lot more terrifying, and that a quick death wouldn't do his host any justice.

He removed the girl from the man's arms, irked and amused that she slept during the whole ordeal. He laid her gently on the floor and then stood beside the man, aware that the son of a bitch can hear and see him.

"Want to do something fun, yeah? Plunging seventy feet to the ground is fun."

Grabo's eyes grew even wider in fear. Unable to see the owner of the cold voice only added to his terror. He really is as hard as stone now. He looked down, one wrong move and could send him plummeting down to his death.

"Happy trails." Illumi whispered, his voice light and frightening, and pushed the man off the window. That's a pretty long fall; it should be long enough to torment him and long enough for the bastard to repent. Still, he could've made him suffer more. Now that that's done, he tucked his hair behind his ear.

"What am I going to do with you?" he said with a resigned voice. He left her alone for a few minutes and this is what happens.

He took one of the three shirts and started drying out the girl's hair. It was dark enough for him to barely see her. That was okay. He felt around, tenderly removing bits of rock and dirt caught in it tangles. No wonder she couldn't sleep, the minute she brings her defenses down her enemies come running. Done with her hair, he took off her still wet oversized shirt and started patting her body dry. He was almost embarrassed to do this, almost. Silently thanking the lightless state they're in. He fondly recalled how he used to do the exact same thing to Kalluto and Killua when they were barely over a year old, when their parents are never around and they were left to their own devices. He pulled a shirt over her head and easily pulled out her arms out of the proper holes. Properly dressed, well as proper as her clothes would allow, Illumi opened his phone again looking for the message containing the address Hisoka gave him the other day. _Drop by anytime_ he said. Well, he's about to do just that.

They have to get away from this place soon. He looked outside, the rain halting almost at once. Well what do you know? Maybe he could control the weather after all.

He looked down at the cause of all his current troubles. How dare she sleep like that! Well, he decided, if he was going to help her he might as well have a little fun and humiliate her a bit.

* * *

Who knew his idea of humiliating her would be making her look like a baby? It was only now that he realized that there's no point in making fun of someone so deep in slumber. Still, it is pretty amazing how he managed the feat.

* * *

Appearance-wise, Hisoka looked like the embodiment of Illumi's internal turmoil. The extremely brightly colored hair, the painted tattoos, the Cheshire grin that reaches up to his ears are enough to make his inner OC run.

"I thought you'd never come!" Hisoka said in a sly tone. He was only wearing a towel when he opened the door right before he knocked. He was about to hug him when he noticed the bundle in Illumi's arms. He held back thankfully, for his sanity and Illumi's. There are more pressing things at hand, well _in the hands_ of his friend. He suppressed laughing at his inside joke and peered over curiously at the figure.

"What's with the over-grown baby?" he said cocking an eyebrow.

"Long story," Illumi replied "mind if I come in?"

Hisoka removed himself from the doorway and bowed like a butler.

"How did you know I would be here, anyway?" Hisoka asked.

Illumi shrugged. "Instinct, I guess. But I'm pretty good, huh?" setting the girl down on the sofa.

"Sure are."

* * *

**A/N: **Many thanks to **X-MelodiesOfTheSakuraTree-X ****, NiendaZoldyeck,** **Hikari-Suzume,** and** Pandora Destiny** for the reviews and story alerts for chapter 2, these things add color to my dull dull life. Thank you.

For the love of bacon, I hope Illumi's not too OOC in this chapter.

I blatantly used my friends' names for the random bad guys. No, they do not have incredibly creepy fascinations and hobbies unlike the aforementioned characters, much to my despair. It was fun making it up tho. Rest assured, I won't be able to look at their faces straight anytime soon.

It was weird how the story's unfolding a bit, I didn't really plan on putting a fight scene there, it just... happened.

I think I need a beta but m not exactly sure how that works x.x

Uploading this now before my [dad's] laptop dies on me. Thank bacon for broadband.

Anyhoot, I hope you enjoyed reading it. :)

I'm a non conformist so m going to say hello instead of hi :)

**edit**

**This is the third time I'll be uploading this chapter.** **I'm sorry. I don't exactly have enough confidence in this one so I kept on taking it down. **

**I'm sorry. **

**REVIEWS, FLAGS, AND COMMENTS ARE HIGHLY ENCOURAGED. I HAVE MANY FLAWS AS A WRITER AND I HOPE I'D GROW AS ONE FROM YOU GUYS. **

Love sent,

-vjeury

**Trivia: **Among the soldiers of squad 257, Orube is one of the most feared and misunderstood probably because of his appearance; sadly people never seem to get past this.

Orube stands a good fifteen feet tall and has the muscles to match. He looked like a half-giant, his skin, the color of a sickly mix of brown and grey. According to locker room conversations, Orube hailed from the mountains of the forbidden beasts and that he traded his sanity so he could be genetically altered by mad scientists and be the perfect biological weapon. These rumours, unfortunately, reached Orube, emotionally scarring him. All he ever wanted is to make friends and since that is unlikely to happen he decided to keep up the monstrous façade and kill everyone who says nasty things behind his back which consisted a good ninety-nine percent of the squad. Migure was the only one who never participated in these discussions which made Orube hope that they could be friends in the future, if not best buddies. Too bad Migure's dead and Orube's a mindless zombie now.


End file.
